


Home

by Purplehuntress3



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: But not before Tary is sad for 2 chapters, I give Tary the werewolf boyfriend he deserves, M/M, Reunions, Sad, Sappy, Smut, Tary gets a happy ending because i want him to, soft, this contains the four s's folks, this was supposed to be a one shot pwp but then tary got feelings and i had more ideas, who needs more than that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-08-10 01:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16460759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplehuntress3/pseuds/Purplehuntress3
Summary: They say Home is where the heart is, but Tary's heart was ripped from his arms many years ago.(A story of reunions and a happy ending, even though this was supposed to be nothing more than a one-shot porn but someone had too many feelings)UPDATE as of 08/04/2019 (April 8th) CHAPTER 6 HAS ART





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I adore Tary. So much. And i also jumped onto the "tary has a werewolf boyfriend" the moment Lawrence's name got dropped in the one shot. This is what happens when i try and write porn and it gets out of hand.

Ser Taryon Darrington, self-proclaimed adventurer, author of  _ The Daring Trials and Tribulations of Ser Taryon Darrington -  _ as well as the soon to be finished sequel,  _ The Dangerous Tribulations and Trials of Ser Taryon Darrington -  _ tinkerer, alchemist, baker, grand commander of the Darrington Brigade, and founder/cfo of the  _ Darrington Family Charity for Wayward Soul _ s was, for lack of a better term, lonely.

These were not the kind of thoughts Tary liked to entertain, but as he sat looking out as the moon rose over Pride’s Call, his brigade asleep behind him, it was undoubtedly true.

Oh he loved his brigade, and over the last few years he had come to trust them with his life. Together they crossed every item off his list, and added many more. And of course there was Doty 4.0, finally fixed up to be just like he used to after they had gotten the money from their last job near Bladegarden. But…

He looked down at the letter in his hand, at the familiar scruffy handwriting that he had seen scribbled on hundreds of notes and blueprints, and read it again for the fifth time since it had appeared in his hands twenty minutes ago. 

 

_ Tary _

_ It is probably late where you are, and I myself am mighty tired (though not nearly so much as Vex) so I will make this brief. _

_ Vex has just given birth to a baby girl, and we are calling her Vesper. She is quite possibly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. The rest of Vox Machina are here, as are some other friends that we have made over the years, though I believe the large group was mainly because Scanlan started a betting ring on what the gender would be and if they would be a tiefling. She’s not, by the way. Our entire family is here to greet the newest member, all but you. _

_ I know you are busy with your brigade, but by the Gods do we miss you, myself and Vex more so than the others, and three years is a long time without my brother in science. We have enjoyed your letters, but know we would enjoy your presence far more. _

_ You will always have a home in Whitestone, Tary. _

_ Percival, of Vox Machina _

 

If Tary thought about it long enough, he would know the real reason why he did not return to Whitestone since he left to form the brigade, but he had had a lot of training in the art of repressing bad thoughts and memories. The journey to Whitestone was long, they would have to go all the way to the port towns of the Menagerie Coast before taking a ship to Stillben, and then travel all the way up to Whitestone from there. Two months to the coast, a few weeks at sea, and then at least another two weeks, if not longer, from Stillben to Whitestone. A four month journey, all for one child? While he could be here, in the Empire, saving lives and being a hero? 

He looked down at the letter once again then out over the rolling hills, and he knew his answer. 

They left for Whitestone as soon as they packed up camp.

~~~

The journey ended up being seven months, after a minor run in with some pirates lead to the kidnaping of Lionel and they of course chased after to rescue him. The pirates sent them on a wild goose chase to Marquet when they were actually headed to Vasselheim, and he would have loved the wind in his hair as he sailed over ocean after ocean if he didn’t have  _ somewhere to be Gods dammit. _ By the time they arrived it was almost Winter’s Crest, the snow falling fast as they arrived past sunset. The dark snow clouds blocked out the moon, but there was still an air of beauty surrounding Whitestone as the torchlight flickered and shone off the newly settled  snow. 

Taryon and the brigade made their way up to the castle, where the guards immediately recognised Tary and let them in. After a brief awkward conversation with Trisha, he left the brigade and Doty in the hands of the servants and made his way to where the not-so-new-anymore parents slept. 

As he walked, he heard the sounds of others walking the castle, though the sun had set it was not late and others were probably just making their way to their rooms. He heard the hard clanking of armour, the soft footfalls of slippers, and a soft male voice singing a lullaby in what  _ might  _ be Elvish, he was not sure, he really should learn. 

He slowly approached Vex and Percy’s room, hearing the soft voice echoing through the door, and paused. He could leave now, and the two would not learn till the morning, when the guards told them about his visit. But how disappointed would they be? That he was here and didn’t say hello. 

He knocked. 

The singing stopped, and instead was replaced by a small conversation, too quiet to hear. Soft footfalls crossed the room, and he heard multiple shifting noises as the door was unlocked, and then standing in the doorway was his Little Elf Girl.

Physically, she had not changed a bit. Maybe a bit less muscle as she switched to a life of luxury but knowing Vex she would have kept up basic exercises. She was wearing a soft white nightgown and her hair was tied up in a basic braid. But her face had changed- softer, but it was obvious she had seen a new part of the world she had not seen before. She seemed wiser too, and it was obvious that she had taken on the role of a mother perfectly.

“Hello V-” he didn’t even get halfway through her name before she was dragging him into a hug, almost squeezing the life out of him. Vex pulled back and grabbed his face, turning him from side to side as she checked him for injuries and marks. Satisfied he was fine she stepped away, smiling softly, and gestured for him to move into the room.

“Hello Goldie,” she said as she closed the door behind them, but Tary’s attention was on the other two people in the room. 

Percy was sat in a rocking chair, slowly moving back and forth, and lying on his chest was the smallest creature he had ever seen. She had Vex’s tanned skin as well as the starting of her hair. While Percy was paying attention to Tary and the scene at the door, he had not noticed as the baby had crawled up and started to pull away his glasses. She got them halfway off before he took them back, and as he moved them away she continued to make grabby motions to them.

Once he had put his glasses back on, Percy motioned for Tary to come over, but it wasn’t until Vex put her hand on his back that he started to move. Percy turned Vesper so she was now sort of sitting up in his lap, hands on her torso to keep her steady. When she caught sight of Tary she looked confused, but made grabby hands towards him anyway. He knelt before her, and she immediately latched onto his moustache and though it hurt he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Did you want to hold her?” Vex asked, and he turned so sharply towards her that he couldn’t help but wince as Vesper pulled on his moustache. 

“I don’t- I don’t know how,” he confessed. 

“That’s alright darling, just sit on the bed and we’ll show you.”

After escaping the rather strong grasp of Vesper, Tary moved and settled himself on the edge of the large king size bed in the room, with Vex sitting next to him on his right side while Percy, still holding Vesper, sat down on his left.

“It’s a little easier now she can hold her own neck up,” Percy said, “but you should still support her back, or have her lay down on your chest like I did.” Vex positioned Tary’s arms, before Percy slowly lowered her into them.

She was so soft, her skin smooth and her hair fine to the touch. She had Percy’s bright blue eyes (though he had read somewhere that all babies did, well  not specifically Percy’s blue eyes but-) and the start of a few teeth could be seen. She tried to grab Tary’s hair again, but this time he kept her just out of reach. 

Were all babies this small? Did she count as a baby anymore? Seven months is quite old and by the Gods maybe he should have looked into this. Wait- why did he need to? This wasn’t his child. 

She smiled, then, and it was as if the world had stopped. When Percy had written and said she was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on he thought he’d been lying, or at least exaggerating. But she was  _ adorable.  _ Was he like this? When he was this small? He couldn’t imagine his father holding him, rocking him back and forth. Did Percy’s parents hold him like this? Did Vex’s mother?

“Tary, darling,” Vex’s calm voice disrupted all his thoughts. “Why are you crying?”

_ Oh.  _

Why was he crying? They did not feel like tears of joy, those he knew well. Tary knew he repressed a lot, and  _ Gods _ he hated that word, but he also hated lonely, lost, and ‘depressed’ was also brought up by that one courtesan in Zadash. He hated those words, but that did not make them any less true.

“I believe Vex,” and now it was Percy, strong and steady, and it might be his arm around his shoulder or it could be Vex’s he didn’t know, “the question we should be asking is why didn’t he come home for almost four years.” 

_ Home.  _ They say home was where the heart is but Tary, Tary had had his heart ripped from his arms many years ago. So he had tried, tried to gain another heart, and he had almost succeed here. He gave pieces of himself to each of Vox Machina and they had returned a piece in return. Everyone of them; Pike, Grog, Keyleth, Percy, Vex and- and-

_ Vax. _

When the name came, the dam broke, and the tears that had just been droplets turned into a waterfall as he rocked himself and Vesper back and forth. He felt her move- or be moved? He couldn’t tell, but soon enough he was wrapped in the strong and warm arms of Percy.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed out, crying into Percy’s shirt. “I’m so sorry.” 

He felt Percy’s hand stroke his back, and heard the two talk above him but he didn’t listen, couldn’t listen, as everything he had shoved down came to the surface and it wouldn’t stop.

_ He had left.  _ He had gone to fix Doty, start his brigade. He had left them behind, and Vax- Vax-

“Why are you sorry Tary?” It was Vex, and he felt as one of her hands threaded its way through his hair and caught on some knots. He should have brushed it before he’d come in, he always did. When did he fall behind on his beauty routine? When did he forget things like that, they had always been his pride and joy but lately they fell behind. He was always looking for distraction after distraction, something exciting to write to Whitestone about. Some excuse to keep himself away.

Suddenly he felt Percy stiffen beneath him, before the man let out a deep sigh, and Tary knew that he had joined the dots. Percy always did. 

“Taryon Darrington,” he said, and his words were soft and calming, “please, for the love of Pelor, tell me  _ you don’t blame yourself for Vax’s death too.”  _

_ Too.  _ So the others did as well. Of course they did, this was Vox Machina. But none of them had left. None of them had abandoned their family for a robot. If Tary could cry harder, he did in that moment. 

He heard Vex take a deep breath from behind him, and felt as she stood from the bed and walked away. He hadn’t wanted to talk about this with Vex, sure it had been almost  _ 4 years my Gods _ \- since her brother’s death, but the twins had been inseparable. For how long of their lives had they only had each other and Tary had  _ left.  _ He had left them and Vax had died.

Vex was suddenly by his side again, sans child, and he felt as she tucked his hair behind his ear, trying to nudge him to turn to her, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t face the woman who had given him her friendship, a home to sleep in, given him meaning when he did not know what he was doing. And what had he given her? An empty room, and a dead brother. 

“Tary darling,” her voice was still warm, still loving and how could she be like this? How could she still even like him for what he did. “Tary look at me.” He turned slightly, keeping as much of his face tucked into Percy’s chest as he could. She looked sad, and she cupped his cheek and rubbed her thumb along his cheekbone. “Is that really why you never came back? Why you just wrote us letters?” 

“I left,” he sobbed out, and it was so mumbled he wasn’t quite sure how much the two could understand. “I left and he  _ died. _ He should be here- should be by your side. How could I come back and face you, knowing that I did that? How could I-” He broke off into another sob, and turned back away from Vex.

They were silent as Tary continued to cry. Percy kept his arms tight and secure around him, and Vex continued to stroke his cheek. They were so calm, so kind, and Tary did not deserve this. 

His sobs turned to hiccups, and eventually he ran out of tears. He did not move though, did not dare except the kindness. 

“Scanlan had Wish,” Vex whispered. “He could have saved Vax but things went wrong. Do you know how much he blames himself? That he couldn’t save his best friend? And Keyleth- Keyleth is by far the most powerful one of us, and yet she failed to save him to. But it isn’t their  _ fault.  _ Did they kill my brother? No that was Vecna. Did they make a pact with the Raven Queen? No, that was Vax. So why are you blaming yourself for something you didn’t do?”

“In the end Tary,” Percy said. “We cannot blame ourselves for what we failed to do. Or maybe we can- maybe we regret, maybe we feel guilty. You know I know my fair share of guilt. But what we do is not dwell on it, we hold it and let it make us a better person by not doing it again.”

“You left, Goldie, but what hurt more was that you never came back.”

He turned then, left Percy’s arms and fell into Vex’s because  _ he’d been so selfish.  _ He saw that now. He had abandoned his best friend in her hour of need all because he blamed himself. Gods he was such an idiot. 

“I don’t want you blaming yourself for that as well though Tary,” she said, as if she was a mind reader. “It hurt, but I understand.” Finally he leant back and looked her in the eyes, and he could see as tears were falling from her own. She smiled, sad and soft. “I missed you Goldie.”

“I missed you too, Little Elf Girl.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tary spends Harvest Close in Deastock, and meets a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much crying, why does he cry so much?

The next morning he introduced the two to his brigade, and also to Doty 4.0, who Percy and himself immediately took down to the workshop to check over. It had felt good to be in there again.

They decided they would stay for Winter’s Crest. The other members come back for the festival, and it was nice to see them all - even if Grog almost did almost crush his spine when he hugged him. 

But, the brigade still had things to do, people to save and jobs to complete, so once the holiday was over, they packed up their things and left.

( _ “Visit this time Goldie,” Vex had made him promise on the steps as they left. _

_ “Every year,” he promised, “at Winter’s Crest.”) _

And so he did. Every Winter’s Crest, he made the trek back to Whitestone. Vex and Percy had another child, another daughter that they called Johanna and she was the spitting image of Cassandra. Sometimes the brigade would come with him, sometimes they stayed back. He found that they were quite capable without him, and he would be proud if it didn’t make him feel… unneeded. 

( _ Vex had been trying to get him to stop repressing his feelings, apparently Percy did it a lot too, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her) _

A few years later, his mother invited him to the Harvest Close Festival in Deastock. He had good memories of the festival from his childhood; the beautiful autumn colours, the spice filled food that he often burnt his mouth on, and as he got older, the massive amounts of wine. 

These days he usually spent Harvest Close in Port Damali, where they did not celebrate the festival. He was well known in the city now, the brigade would often do a job or two when they come through and Doty had learnt his lesson and was very helpful to potion makers now, as well as being good at moving cargo off ships. Tary liked to spend the time there so that he didn’t have to make ship arrangements on the day he arrived to get to Stillben, as he didn’t want to miss Winter’s Crest. He knew if he missed one then Vex would have his head. 

However, he hadn’t seen his mother in a while, and the brigade were not doing anything at the moment, so he decided he’d visit and enjoy the festivities for a few days before continuing south to the coast. He had invited the brigade, but they decided to spend it in Zadash instead, trying to win the cashpot in the colosseum. 

The festival was just as he remembered, and he and his mother spent the day trying all sorts of food and spiced wine as they caught up. It was fun, and he didn’t see his father once. 

He stayed in an inn in the middle of town, one of the more expensive ones since he wasn’t planning on staying long. He treated his mother to dinner there, eating fine delicacies as he told her more of his adventures. 

( _ “Your sister is engaged,” she told him. “You are invited to the wedding sweetheart but I understand if you can’t- or don’t want to- make it.” She leant forward and placed her hand on his. “I just wanted to ask you- have you met anyone? On the road?” _

_ He smiled, though his heart hurt beneath it. “I’m afraid not,” he said, and promptly changed the subject.) _

His mother left for the new family home, giving him an invitation to the wedding as she left with a kiss on his cheek. He stared at it, before quickly tearing it to shreds and heading to bed. 

The next morning he went out to explore, wanting to see how the city had changed since he had been here last. He tended to avoid it normally, only passing straight through to the estate to help the charity, which meant he hadn’t had a chance to explore the city since he had fled. It was much the same, though the people he once knew well were either gone or older. After avoiding it most of the day, he decided to head to ‘Bound To Please’.

It was a bookshop, hidden in a back alley next to an old pub that had closed down while he was gone. It was less of a shop and more the owner, a middle-aged elf, showing off his collection and, if you had the right coin and smile, he would let you leave with one. 

Lawrence had shown him this place. They had gone into town with the belief it would be sunny, but the weather had turned sour around midday and so they had gone to find shelter.  _ If you love stories,  _ he had said,  _ then there is no shop more full of them.  _

He had been right, as he always was. The shop was three stories high and far bigger on the inside, hundreds of shelves all sagging under the weight of all the books. Most were fiction, some even more of the… crass kind, but he found a few non-fiction books too. He also, surprisingly, found a copy of his own book, tucked under a book about how Golems will eventually rise up and kill them all. The book didn’t sound too bad actually, but he also had a fear Doty would find it and get ideas. His name was long enough already, didn’t need to add “the guy who gave golems the idea to kill us” to it. 

He heard someone else enter the shop and went deeper towards the back, not in the mood to deal with others at the moment. This place was too special for him.

It was here that he first kissed Lawrence. 

It had been about a year after his father had first hired the man, and the two had been steadily getting closer as the months passed. They had been back to this bookshop multiple times since Lawrence had showed it to him, and the two had a habit of getting lost in it. Many of the books they were interested in were ones the owner did not want to give away, so they would spend the day on the second floor in two of the soft chairs set up towards the back, reading and telling the other about their book. 

This time, Tary’s book was not very interesting. The author had made it sound good on the blurb but the writing style was awful and don’t even get him  _ started _ on the characters. But he was not to bothered by it, because Lary had decided to give a dramatic reading of his own. 

When Lary read aloud, he couldn’t sit down. He would walk about, book in one hand while he used the other to gesture to give emphasis to his words. He was reading poetry today, and Tary had always adored poetry, because not only did it help you describe the indescribable, but each author had their own way of doing that. Two different people see the world in different ways, and so even if they are writing about the same thing, their work can be opposites. 

“ _Does the sun promise to shine_?” he said softly. “ _No, but it will, even beyond the darkest clouds it will_.” His pace had slowed to match the cadence of his voice, and he brought his free hand up to join the other on the book. While he walked his body was always tilted towards Taryon, though he kept his eyes on the book. “ _And no promise will make it shine longer or brighter, for that is its fate, to burn until it can burn no more.”_ He stopped pacing in front of Tary, turning to fully face him. “ _So to love you,”_ he stopped talking then, looking up from the book and staring Tary right in the eye, “ _so to love you is not my promise, it is my fate, to burn until I can burn no more.”_

Tary stood then and pushed Lary’s arms apart, letting the book drop as he pressed their bodies together. He took Lary’s chin in his hand and pulled him down for a kiss. 

He had read many stories about first kisses, about how sparks flew around the couple as they kissed. They had talked about a rush of lightning that tingles all the way through the body, spoke of butterflies taking flight. The kiss was nothing like any of that. It was warm, it was soft, and it felt… familiar, even though Tary had never kissed another  _ person _ before let alone another man. It didn’t feel world ending, or world starting. It felt like… like fate.

Hidden in the back of the same bookshop so many years later, he found the same poetry book, buried under hundreds of books. He pulled it close to his chest and turned, ready to try and barter with the ageless elf to get to keep this one book.

He had not noticed, however, the other person in the shop, who had also made his way to the back. Tary turned and walked into the man’s side, knocking the stack of books out of his hands to the floor.

“Oh shit-” the man grunted as he stopped to pick his books up. 

“I’m so sorry!” Tary cried out, and then went to help retrieve them. He didn’t get a good look at the man, it was a bit dark and Tary was far too busy trying to find these books than see the stranger. The two began to pile the books up, and as Tary found them on the floor he would read the titles.  _ Lots of alchemy, a few stereotypical fantasy novels, and a good selection of poetry. This man had taste.  _ He went to tell the stranger as much, hands atop the pile they had created, but found himself speechless as he stared into the face of Lawrence Lorelei. 

He had not changed  _ a bit.  _ Whatever elven heritage gave him that slight point to his ears made sure his perfect features had not aged. The white stripes that ran through his hair had possibly widened, but that was the only indication that he had grown older. Lawrence looked as shocked to see him as well, dropping the book in his hands to the ground. 

Taryon could cry,  _ was  _ crying actually, but he did not know the true reason why. 

_ This cannot be.  _ His father had had him  _ killed.  _ He heard the words fall from his father's mouth himself, as Lawrence was dragged from his arms. They had been so careful for so long, hiding what they had in locked rooms. Tary and his father had never been close, so he hardly came to find him anyway. But the one time they forgot to lock the door, was the one time that he did. 

It had been morning, though Lawrence had snuck his way into Tary’s room late the previous night. They had been wrapped in each other’s arms, Taryon tucked under Lawrence chin as they slept. Then there was shouting, his father shouting for the guards, and then Lawrence was torn from his arms. 

_ Kill him,  _ his father spat towards one of the guards, and Tary had not seen that perfect face since. Until now.

“Taryon,” Lawrence said, and it was exactly his voice, the same one that would read him poetry as they walked in the sun, the same one that would whisper sweet nothings in his ear as he pinned him to the bed, the same one that would call out his name as they finished together, the same one that had called out his name as he was dragged-

“You’re dead.” It was a whisper and a sob all rolled into one because  _ he was dead,  _ his Lawrence could not be here because his father- “You’re dead,” he said again, and started to back away, using his hands to get as far as he could until his back met the wall. “You are- you are some demon come to haunt me- a Rakshasa!” But why would one come for him? They had killed the one that had haunted Vax in the nine hells, Hotis could not come back and since then he had not crossed any other being like it.

He brought his knees up towards his chest, wrapping his arms around them and hiding his face.  _ If he didn’t look it would go away.  _ He knew he shouldn’t have come back to Deastock, knew he should have stayed away.

A warm hand settled gently on his knee. Lary had always been slightly warmer than a normal person, something Tary had always taken advantage of on those cold winter nights. He did nothing more, the hand the only point of contact between the two.

“Your father tried,” Lawrence said, and as he spoke Tary could hear the tears in the man’s voice. “Your father tried to kill me, but he could not, and I fled to my family home just outside the city. My sister- she tried to call for you for me, use her status but by the time she was able to do it… you were gone.” 

Tary looked up into his eyes, and saw the tears there, saw the pain in his eyes and he knew. 

He reached forward and grabbed Lawrence’s collar, pulling him towards him and pressing their mouths together. It was an awkward kiss, Tary’s knees got in the way and probably hit something unpleasant, and their noses crushed against each other but neither cared. Because they were both there, both alive, both real. 

Lawrence broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed as he held onto Tary, one hand holding the side of his face while the other held his shoulder. Tary could feel Lary’s tears as they fell onto his cheeks. 

“I dreamed your face a thousand times,” Lawrence whispered, “and I believed that that was all I would ever have, a dream, a memory. I couldn’t enquire after you - your father would try and have my killed again. In fact it was only after your family’s name fell… out of favour that I could even return into town.” He stroked his thumb along Tary’s cheek then he pulled away, the two opening their eyes and Tary smiled as Lawrence’s thumb pushed away a tear. “Where have you been? I was told you left but, where did you go?” 

“Everywhere? Nowhere?” Tary replied. “Honestly in my first few years adventuring it would be easier to list the places I  _ didn’t  _ go. These last few years I’ve many been staying in Wildemount, but I always make my way to Tal’dorei for winter.” He smiled, bittersweet. “I made myself a home on the road.” 

Lawrence frowned at his last words. “Those who have to make a home on the road, do not truly have a home.” Ah. Well Tary couldn’t argue with that, he knew it was true, but he had been avoiding those thoughts for a long time. And yet here was Lary, dragging them all into the light. 

“I- Well, you know what they say... home is where the heart is.” He didn’t continue, just reached up and held Lawrence’s face.

Lawrence did not reply, but it was obvious he was thinking hard about something. Tary had seen that looked a hundred times before, when the two had been leant over books searching for information, or over one of his private alchemy projects, or even on occasion as he held Tary down, wondering what to do next. 

“Are you free?” Lawrence asked, and he had been so deep in his thoughts it took him a second to even realise he’d been asked a question, and then longer to work out an answer.  _ Was he?  _ Sure, he had the work with the brigade but, they didn’t need him. They might like having him around- he started the thing for God’s sake but… did they need him? Did they  _ want  _ him? 

What was Tary even thinking? Why was he debating this? Why would he ever choose anything else over  _ Lawrence.  _

And without a second thought, he said “Yes.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave kudos and comments!! they feed me and make me write more  
> Next chapter is smutty, dw the explicit is there


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they reach lorelei castle and 'catch up' *wink wink*

They grabbed all of Tary’s things from the inn, including Doty, who Lawrence was surprised to see was still following Tary around after all those years, and less surprised to hear he was Doty 4.0. After grabbing it all Tary wrote a quick letter to the brigade, telling them he would be “gone indefinitely”, and then they hired a carriage, since Doty couldn’t ride horseback, and made their way to Lorelei castle.

It took them a while, since they couldn’t take the shortcut that Lawrence wanted to with the cart, and it had been midday when they set off, so by the time they reached the castle the sun had long since set. 

In the darkness, Lorelei castle looked somewhat… terrifying. The tall walls towered over the trio as they took the carriage up the path, their movement blocking out any other sound of the night. The castle was surrounded by open ground, but two, three hundred feet behind the castle lies a cemetery- probably the family one, and behind that lay a deep, thick, forest. Taryon had never had the chance to visit Lorelei castle, and Lawrence only mentioned the place in passing. He did talk a bit about his family though, his many siblings (he had a twin didn’t he? A younger one… Barry, was it? No, it had an “n”. Benry? Benji?) and his father and his aunt Katerine. When Lawrence spoke of his family, even if he was complaining about one of them, it was always clear that he loved them deeply, and that they loved him. If only Tary could say the same about his own family. 

The heavy metal portcullis blocked their main entry to the grounds, and Lawrence had to exit the cart and open up a side door, where he raised the gate so Tary could lead the cart through. From the inside the castle seemed more welcoming; there were torches that lit up the courtyard and they cast away the shadows. A few windows had light pouring from them; a soft warm glow that started to calm Tary’s nerves. 

“I’ll set you up in one of the guest rooms.” Lawrence said as he helped Tary off the cart, which was unnecessary, but a kind gesture nonetheless, and it also meant he was close enough to Lary to yank him into another kiss. 

Oh, he could not get enough of Lawrence’s mouth- after so many years without it, kissing him was like a drowning man finding air. An ironic metaphor, because every time he kissed Lary it felt like his breath was being taken away. His arms wound around Lawrence’s neck, pulling him as close as possible. This kiss was much different to the one in the bookstore; that kiss was wet, soft but emotional, but this was hotter. He could feel Lawrence’s stubble on his cheeks, and he bet the other man could feel his own more prominent facial hair. Lawrence’s hands settled on his hips, squeezing and tugging him closer so-

Doty caused a loud bang as he tried to get out of the cart, tripping over something he could not see in the dark. He pulled himself up using the cart, but in doing so broke off a piece of the wood. Tary pulled himself from Lawrence’s arms- much to both their displeasure- and made his way over to Doty to check the cart. 

“Well the deposit has gone on this thing.” he said as he slapped the side of the cart, which creaked as he did.  _ Definitely gone.  _ He gave Doty a once over and he looked fine, so he turned back to Lawrence, who was standing exactly where he left him, arms still open. “Guest room, was it?” 

~~~~

Lorelei castle looked very different on the inside. 

The old stone walls and iron were still there, but the floors were carpeted and soft, and many of the walls were draped in tapestries and paintings to give life to the old place. In the main greeting room a warm fire was still burning even at this hour, and many of the torches on the walls were actually continual flames. 

“My father and a few servants are the only ones here at the moment, and most of them will be asleep. Though Miss Peggy always has a habit of staying up in my library after her work is finished. Bright young mind that one.” Lawrence said as they climbed the stairs.  _ No guards,  _ Tary thought. He knew that Lawrence could take care of himself, had spent many days staring out the window as his lover kept his skills up in the courtyard. Once he had even seen Lawrence take on Maryanne and win. And yet the fact that there were no guards felt wrong to Tary- what if Lawrence was caught unaware, or his father? Surely there must be something keeping them safe other than themselves.

They reached the guest room before Tary could continue that thought, Lawrence opening the door and gesturing for Tary to enter. The room was large, a king size bed dominated the room with small pieces of furniture scattered around. The floors were carpeted in a deep maroon that complimented the red of the walls. A large fireplace was across from the bed, currently out with no coal near it. A large window looked out across the forest behind the castle. It was a room fit for a king. 

“My great grandfather had this room done many decades ago when the emperor came down to visit. Though the Dwendal line has not come back, we keep it furnished and clean in case.” 

_ Oh, what did I do to deserve you,  _ Tary wondered, gazing at Lawrence _.  _ The only other person to sleep in this room was an  _ emperor,  _ and here was Lawrence saying he was worthy of sleeping in it too. Lawrence shuffled his feet for a moment. “I’ll- I’ll grab some coal for the fire, it can get cold up here at night.” and he quickly turned and fled.

He walked into the room, and immediately took of his boots and socks to feel the luscious carpet beneath his feet. He heard the sound of Doty come into the room behind him. 

“Doty, take this down,

_ Dear Lord Percival and Lady Vex _ ’ _ ahlia De Rolo _

_ I must deeply apologise but I will not be able to come to Whitestone for Winter’s Crest this year as my heart has come back into my life. Lawrence ( _ the  _ Lawrence) is still alive and breathing and it is a strange thing because though he is breathing every time I look at him it feels as if I am not. I have only been reunited with him for a mere few hours and yet it feels as though I am finally at peace, like all the questions I have been asking myself have been answered. _

_ I am sure, if either of you were here, you would tell me that that is what love is.  _

_ I never thought I would feel like this again.” _

He paused there, and reached up to wipe away a tear from his cheek. 

_ “I will miss you this year, but I will try and write twice as much to make up for it- and maybe even try and find that enchanted paper that can appear in the hands of the receiver. Next year I will come, and maybe you will get to meet the man I always talked to you about.  _

_ Yours,  _

_ Taryon Darrington.” _

“Doty, stop and shut down in the corner if you could.” 

Doty walked over to one of the corners and powered down, the slight glow from his eyes fading and his limbs falling limp, and Tary was left alone to his own thoughts. 

_ He is alive.  _ It's still a strange thought to think, how after all this time his love had just been a few miles away from Deastock. It's not like Tary would have known, he avoided this place like it had caught the plague- then had  _ died  _ from the plague, and then a necromancer had brought it back to life just for it to catch the plague again. That’s how much he hated it. How much he hated his father.

Oh, if he could see the man’s face now. See everything Tary had done- when he had finally faced his father all those years ago he had been proud, especially with Vox Machina by his side. To step out of his father’s shadow, to be a  _ real man _ , and not the one his father wanted him to be. And here he was, in a room made for an  _ Emperor,  _ waiting for the man of his dreams (literally, how many times had he dreamt of Lawrence coming back into his life). His father would be fuming. 

He moved to the window which looked out over the entire of the woods. From so high it did not look scary, but beautiful; the moonlight illuminating the forest, and as the trees moved in the wind, they looked more like waves than anything else. 

Lawrence walked in, carrying a bucket of coal and some firewood. Tary turned, leaning with his back on the windowsill as he watched him bend over to light the fire.  _ Another thing that hadn’t changed was his ass.  _

“I’m sorry?” Lawrence turned to look at him, his face a mix of shock and amusement, and Tary realised he had  _ said that out loud.  _

“Oh um- I- that's not what I said, I said-” oh  _ shit  _ what rhymed with ass? Crass? No, he couldn’t use that. Bass? How on earth would he work that into a sentence. It took him a moment to realise that Lawrence was laughing. 

“There’s one thing that hasn’t changed about you.” He said as he got the fire to light, standing up and walking towards Tary. “You get embarrassed far too easily.” Lawrence moved into Tary’s space, placing both hands besides his hips and leaning over him. Before he could do anything though, a loud howl interrupted them. Tary turned in Lawrence’s arms, leaning back into his chest as he looked out into the forest. 

“I didn’t know there were wolves in the forest?” He said, and he felt as Lawrence wound an arm around his chest, his head falling onto Tary’s shoulder.

“Not many- but there are a few that roam at night.” Lawrence’s voice was tight as he spoke, and there was obviously something more he wasn’t saying. “Don’t you worry though,” he said as he pressed a kiss to Tary’s hair, “I’ll protect you.”

Tary chuckled as he turned around to face him, grabbing hold of his collar to pull him closer. “I don’t need protecting anymore.” He whispered, and kissed him. 

He knew where he wanted this kiss to go, knew he wanted it to end with the two of them on the bed as he finally got to see the body he had not in so many years. But even though he knew that he could not help the softness of the kiss. How he let go of the collar and instead twisted his hands around the back of Lawrence’s neck, refusing to let him go.  _ 10 years.  _ 10 years without his touch, his voice. 10 years without the warmth of his body lying next to him, always waking up before him, holding himself up with his elbow as his watched Tary wake. 10 years without walking through parks, reading poetry and discussing science. 10 years, and here he was kissing him once again. 

It was Lawrence that manoeuvred them to the bed, and when Tary fell back onto it, it felt like he had fallen onto clouds. He pulled Lawrence on top of him, and that was when the kiss turned more heated. Lawrence bit Tary’s bottom lip and he moaned, opening his mouth and letting that clever tongue dive in. He felt Lary slid his hand underneath his shirt and Tary realised that Lawrence was still fully dressed.

“You have  _ far  _ too many clothes on.” he said as he pulled back and started to pull and Lawrence’s clothes, unbuttoning his shirt one by one. Lawrence made no move to help, instead he started pressing kisses to his jaw and then down his neck. He paused over his pulse point, before slowly he started to suck and nibble. Tary went to stop him when he realised.

They didn’t have to hide this anymore.

Lawrence had always loved to mark him up- how many mornings had he stood in front of the mirror as he stared at his thighs that were more bruised than not. Tary had also adored it; it made him feel loved. Wanted. But because of the nature of their relationship those marks had to be carefully placed for fear that they would be found out. Tary always had to wear more concealing clothing the few days after they had spent the night together due to Lawrence’s habit. This time though, he wouldn’t have to. Wouldn’t have to wear high necked shirts or scarves because they didn’t have to hide. 

Lawrence continued to leave marks along Tary’s neck and down his chest; the shirt’s opening was wide enough that Lary could pull it to the side and reveal Tary’s nipple. Lawrence twisted the bud sharply, causing a rush of both pain and pleasure to flow through Tary’s body as he jolted and pulled at Lawrence’s shirt, ripping a few buttons from their place.

“That shirt was expensive!” Lawrence said as he rubbed his thumb gently over Tary’s nipple.

“Well  _ maybe _ if you helped we could get this done quicker.” Tary replied, finally pushing the shirt off of Lawrence’s shoulders. His body was the same as it had been, toned muscle slightly hidden by dark hair that slowly got thicker and coarser as it led down. The occasional scar from his experiments and the few fights he’d been in cut through the hair and stood out against his dark skin.  _ I used to worship each scar.  _ Tary thought.  _ A hero’s mark. A strange thought to believe I probably have more now.  _

He ran his hand through the hair on Lary’s chest before reaching up behind the man’s head to undo his hair. As it fell it framed his face perfectly, and Tary could write poetry about the way Lawrence stared down at him, probably will write poetry about it, but not now. That would be rude. 

Lawrence was obviously as impatient as Tary was and quickly rid him of his shirt and… stopped. 

“What’s wrong?” Tary asked, but Lawrence was very much focused on his chest.

_ Ah. Right.  _

Where Lawrence had stayed almost the same, Taryon had not. Sure he kept up the same beauty routine and he did not spend half of his teenage years going from hairstyle to hairstyle to find the perfect one just to change it now, but  _ physically  _ (and probably emotionally too, but that's for another day) he was pretty different. The slight softness to him that had come from years of luxury had given way to a fighter’s body. Not strong, but  _ stronger.  _ His chest hair had always been light- and was never anything compared to Lawrence’s, but over the years it had been cut through by many different scars. The few wounds and burns from the nine hells, the lightning marks up his left arm where the brigade had fought a blue dragon two years ago, the single bullet wound in his left shoulder where he had learnt that when Percy said not to pick up his gadgets,  _ you really don’t pick up his gadgets,  _ because they explode in your hands and shoot you. 

Lesson well learnt. 

But back to the moment at hand. Lawrence began to stroke along the biggest of the scars on his chest; it went from his sternum to his navel and was thick, standing out against all the others. It had been a superficial wound, but the knife the guy had done it with was jagged and sharp, making sewing it together hard.

“When you said you had been everywhere, that you had achieved your dream of being an adventurer,” Lawrence’s words were soft and Tary could barely hear them, “I guess I thought it would have been just like all those books. The hero doesn’t get hurt in them.” His hand shifted, tracing scar after scar, before Tary caught it and brought it up to his mouth so he could press a kiss to it.

“A friend once said that a scar is a reminder that you lived.” Tary murmured into his hand before he let it go. “And I have lived- lived so much more than I ever thought I would. It was not what I expected, not by a long shot. But every cut, every wound, every near death experience, has somehow led me back to you.”  _ That's a line for the poetry.  _

Lawrence leaned down and kissed him, before whispering into his lips. “I missed you.” He brought his hand up to stroke Tary’s cheek, and he  _ really _ needed to stop crying. Seriously, it was going to make his eyes go all puffy and red and that is something he did not want for the first time they had sex in 10 years. Lawrence began to kiss each scar, starting with the bullet wound and making his way down. By each scar he left his own mark, and though they would fade over the next few days, they were made with the knowledge that more would be follow. 

When he reached the waistband of Tary’s trousers, Lawrence paused and looked up to make eye contact. He smirked as he tugged slightly, but it was clear he wouldn’t move on without some sort of permission. Tary nodded fiercely, twisting one of his hands into Lawrence’s hair as the man slid his fingers beneath the waistband and yanked his trousers down. 

Tary had, as was once described, a terribly average cock. In the last 10 years he had not slept around, per se, but he had seen enough to know that there was nothing special- no ridges and knots like tieflings, and definitely not as large as half orcs and giants (he still has that picture of Grog somewhere, buried deep in his pack). Compared to all that, Tary’s 5 inch uncut cock was very plain and simple, and yet Lawrence was looking at it like the cat who got the cream.

Tary was only half hard, their kisses not very stimulating, but a few quick kisses around the base changed that. The kisses were wet, sloppy and opened mouthed, and the  _ noises.  _ Lawrence began to kiss upwards, following one of the veins, and as he reached the top he brought just the tip into his mouth. 

Lawrence had always had a talented mouth; not just the way he spoke but how he used it. Taryon  _ adored _ it. That mouth had taken him apart on so many occasions; weekends when it was just the two of them in the house and Lawrence kept him in bed, getting him to come over and over till he was coming dry. 

Luckily it seemed that Lawrence was feeling rather merciful, or impatient, this evening. He shifted his hands so that one was holding down his hip while the other held down his thigh before he took Tary down to the hilt. He tried to buck his hips, but the hands kept him pinned, digging in slightly. 

He came up slowly, hollowing his cheeks as he did so. He shifted one of his arms so it lay across Tary’s stomach, freeing his other hand. He pulled the foreskin slowly down, revealing the sensitive skin beneath. Lary brought just that into his mouth, sucking on it slightly as his tongue played with Tary's slit. Tary tried to buck his hips up, but Lawrence kept him pinned, so instinctively the hand in Lawrence's hair pushed him down. Surprised, he quickly pulled back off, shaking Tary's hand from his hair.

"Sorry!" Tary said, raising his hands up in front of him. He would have said more but he was out of breath and just wanted Lawrence to get back to it.

"You've- you're stronger." There was surprise in his voice, as well as delight. He smiled as Tary could do nothing more than shrug, and he returned back to Tary's cock.

Lawrence knew all the ways to curl his tongue and combine his fingers and mouth to bring Tary to the edge, and soon enough the man came down his throat with a whimper, and when he pulled Lawrence down he was prepared and kept himself steady. As Tary softened he turned his attention to the man's thighs, keeping them spread as he began to leave marks. He started at the knees and worked his way up, waiting as Taryon caught his breath back. 

Tary pulled Lawrence back up so they were face to face, shifting his hand from his hair to his chin and pulling him into a kiss. He could taste himself on Lawrence's tongue, and though it certainly wasn't pleasant, he put up with it so he could kiss Lawrence. The man slowly lowered himself over Tary so they were chest to chest, and he ground his hips into Tary's, revealing his own cock still hard in his breaches. 

Tary pulled away from the kiss. "Wanna see something else that's changed?" Lawrence nodded, and in an instant Tary had them flipped, Lawrence flat on his back while he settled between his legs. He pulled down the other man's trousers, revealing a much larger and thicker cock. Before, Tary had tried to give him a blowjob once, and it ended with Tary getting two inches in his mouth before pulling off and just using his hand while Lawrence soothed him. The entire thing had been embarrassing, and now he would rather just forget it. Especially since over the years his skills have improved. 

"Do not come down my throat." he said. It was then that Lawrence finally realised what he was going to do, and as his head fell back as he groaned, Tary took his cock into his mouth.

_______

When they finally settled to sleep, Tary's back was to Lawrence's chest, both of the larger man's arms curled around his chest as if he was afraid the other man would disappear if he let go. They had both cleaned up, (rather vigorously on Tary's part, since Lawrence decided that to not come down Tary's throat, but instead he would come all over his chest and get it into his chest hair, goddammit) and the sheets had been changed.

Lawrence was asleep behind him; with Tary in his arms it had come quickly, but for Tary...

It felt strange to have someone else in  bed with him. A good strange, yes, but strange nonetheless. Tary had spent 10 years by himself, any time he took a man to bed one of them would always leave before the other fell asleep. But though it felt strange, it also felt safe. No one could harm him while he was wrapped in Lawrence's arms. 

It took awhile, but sleep came for him too, as he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of his true love being alive.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments please darlings! and come scream at me at huntress-of-the-forest on tumblr if you'd like


	4. Chapter 4

When Lawrence woke, he was alone.

He kept his eyes shut, trying to hold on to the dream. It had been better, more vivid than the countless others he had before. He had thought that the pain of losing Tary was finally waning and that maybe, ten years later, he would finally be able to move on. How many men had his family introduced him to? Trying to help him heal his shattered heart? And he had tried; sat down with each one, got to know them. And yet in each one, he saw his Taryon; in fact, he saw him everywhere, every day. He passes at least 6 people a day with Tary’s eyes, blue as the sky at midday. His smile was rarer, but could still be found. Loud and boisterous, with just a hint of narcissism. He had once seen a woman with hair just like Tary, and it felt like such an insult that Lawrence had to physically stop himself from going up to her and telling her to get it changed. He had just turned 40, maybe now was time to accept he would be a bachelor forever?

He was trying to remember the exact way Tary’s hair had shimmered in the moonlight (it had seemed duller than it used to, but that might have just been the dream) when Lawrence heard shuffling in the room. An intruder? Probably not. Other than their land the Lorelei’s had nothing to their name. It was probably just Beni coming back into their room after a long night drinking, or trying to play a prank on him. 

To feign sleep, he curled up onto his side, bring the quilt up with him to cover his shoulder. It was a trick Portia had taught them when they were young, so the three could stay up late without aunt Katerine catching on. It was then he realised that this… wasn’t his bed. 

It was far too soft, the material almost silk-like and the mattress like clouds. It was then he remembered  _ where _ the dream had occurred, and he opened his eyes. 

Stood in front of the floor length mirror in nothing more than his small clothes was Taryon. He had his head tilted back, examining the countless hickey’s that littered his neck. It was hard to see the rest of him from this angle, but Lawrence knew the rest of his body was likely the same. The curtains were open, and in the mid-morning light, Tary looked almost heavenly. His hair shimmered in the light, though it was duller and, though he’d never mention it, signs of grey slowly sneaking in. Tary’s back was as heavily scarred as the front. The exit wound from the bullet took up most of his left shoulder, the starburst pattern that Lawrence had seen start to appear in recent years. The lightning marks moved up his arm and over the back of his shoulders, and the burnt skin shone as much as his hair in the light. His lower back was covered in smaller burns, as well as one thick deep scar by his right kidney. 

It was a few minutes before Tary caught him staring, their eyes meeting in the mirror. The man raised his eyebrow as he turned, arms wide to put himself on display. As Lawrence thought, he was  _ covered _ in bruises. They flowed down his neck like a river, expanding to cover his shoulders. They spread down along his pec, condensing around his nipples and become a few bite marks there too. They trickled into one line down his torso and disappearing beneath his smallclothes, appearing all over his thighs. 

Lawrence reached his hand out towards Tary, and when the other man took it he pulled him back into bed with him. He fell next to him with a laugh, but he did not resist being bundle up in his arms again. Lawrence took Tary’s face in his grasp and just held it, looking over every feature in the morning sun. His face was less scarred than his body but there was still some present; a small shrapnel scar across his right cheek, a cut through his eyebrow that prevented hair growth. And yet still, despite every scar that covered his body, the man was still smiling that beautiful golden smile up at him, white teeth blinding in the sunlight. He reached up to hold Lawrence’s face just the same, except he knew that his own body had changed far less drastically. 

When he had dreamed of a moment like this, where they would be reunited, Tary was the same as he was back then. Soft and smiling and smooth. This was still his Taryon but he was different. The world had taken him and scarred him; he had seen adventure as he had always wanted to, and he had discovered what the really meant. 

There was a knock at the door. 

Lawrence’s reaction was instant, pulling the quilt up over Taryon and hiding him, memories flashing back to another time when they had been found in bed together. 

The door swung open to reveal Peggy, apron on and covered in flour. She took one look at the bed before reaching up to cover her eyes.

“Oh! Sorry- I saw you come up here last night- I thought you were alone!” she sputtered, extremely embarrassed by the situation. But also trying to get as much gossip for the others, if the way she peaked out behind her fingers said anything. 

“Peggy!” he shouted, still covering Tary. He gestured for her to leave and she slowly back out the door. She removed one hand from her eyes and shot him a thumbs up before closing it. He let his shoulders drop for a second, but as soon as he did Peggy opened the door again. 

“Also breakfast is ready my lord.”

“Out!” 

The door was slammed shut. 

He held his breath and waited until he heard the sound of footsteps leading away from the door. Usually, he would have heard Peggy’s approach, but he had been so caught up in Tary’s face he had missed it. 

Speaking of Tary, the man hadn’t stopped giggling since he noticed the thumbs up Peggy had shot him. With the woman now gone the breath Lawrence let out was more of a deep sigh than anything else, but as Tary’s laughter grew he couldn’t help but smile.

“What? Are you telling me you’ve bedded many a man these past years?” Tary offered nothing more than a raised eyebrow and a wink as he rolled out of bed to find his pants. 

~~~

There was not enough coffee in the world that could have prepared Lawrence for breakfast with his father and Taryon.

At first, it seemed like it would be nothing more than an awkward morning after breakfast. All Lawrence’s sibling had had them, and he had often had the joy of making fun of them. Though none of his siblings’ guests had started the meal off with “I like your work” before sitting down and cursing at themselves. If Lawrence didn’t find it so adorable, he would have felt sorry for him. Especially when his father replied “I can tell” as he looked upon the hickeys that adorned Tary’s neck.

So neither of them owned any high necked shirts, what was he supposed to do? Wear a scarf to breakfast?  _ Heathenous.  _

But his father could tell that there was probably something different about this breakfast than the usual one night stands his siblings will bring back from the city. The gentle touches Tary made as he leant over to grab a piece of toast. How the two of them would lean into each other to make a small joke. They had slipped back into the closeness they had before easily, and it was obvious his father could see it. 

“I don’t think I got your name, son.” Haldor said, gently placing his knife and fork onto his plate. The servant in the room quickly took it away, and then it was just the three of them. 

“Taryon Darrington, sir.” He stuttered out the last name, and Lawrence wondered just what had happened between Tary and his father in the past decade. 

Haldor leaned forward and peered over his glasses. “You are the boy my son tutored, yes? The one he was almost killed over after he was caught having an affair with?”

“Father-” Lawrence started, but Tary nodded and cut him off. 

“Yes.” he voice was strong and sure, but there was an edge of fear below it. It was obvious Tary cared about Lawrence’s father’s opinion, and though Lawrence himself knew his father would care not the gender of the person he brought home, he cared about the danger he’d bring with it. 

Haldor studied him a moment. “You don’t remind me of your father much.” 

“I would consider it an insult if you said I did.” That got his father to smile. 

“And yet you still use his name, quite a lot, if the tales of your brigade are true.” 

Lawrence watched as Tary leant forward to match his father, resting his elbows on the table. That put Lary off for a second; before Tary would have been too afraid to do anything like that, his father was strict about manners. And yet he places them there like he no longer has to think about their implications. 

“The Darrington name is as much my name as his.” He said strongly, his eyes meeting Haldor’s as he spoke. “My father raked it through the mud with his dealings with The Myriad, and I placed it upon my own shoulders to save it, no matter how much he disliked how I did it. Though I do not care about what he thinks anymore, I have only seen him once in the last decade.”

Lawrence remembered a boy terrified of his own father. Who would drag him into side rooms and check he’d locked the door twice. He remembered a boy who could never meet his father's eyes, and yet craved his approval and cried when it was shown to his sister instead. He remembered a boy who was so lonely he created his own animatronic to keep him company, and still craved more. He remembered soft hidden smiles, chaste kisses, and how awkward and confused he’d been around love. He remembered how the boy would hide all of this behind false faces and loud boisterous gestures. 

This man was not that boy.

He was still awkward, yes, and his smiles were still soft, and there was still an air of  _ loud  _ that surrounded him. But as Lawrence watched Tary talk, he saw how different he was. How he carried himself stronger, head held high, but the tension that always was in his shoulders was not there. The fear of being outed was gone. 

_ Because he had been outed. And he had survived it.  _

“So if you do not live in Deastock, where do you stay?” Lawrence tried to get his father’s attention to get him to stop, but both he and Taryon seemed to be caught up in their conversation. Instead, Lawrence focused on his coffee and wished he had more. 

“I don’t really have a home anymore,” the words Tary had said yesterday came to his mind,  _ home is where the heart is,  _ “but I frequent Whitestone a lot, and visit there at least once a year for their Winter’s Crest festival.” 

“That’s quite the journey.” 

“I know people there that make it worth it.” 

“Tal’dorei have very different laws surrounding worship-”

“Alright.” Lawrence was not in the habit of interrupting his father, but this was going on long enough. “Father I must beg you not to bring up politics at the breakfast table.” 

His father raised his hand towards him, but his eyes did not leave Tary. “Not politics, religion. I only wish to know Tary’s opinion on the worship of  _ false gods _ on our sister continent, and what he thinks of our own 6 good gods.” the way his father said the words  _ false gods _ hit him hard. He was young when Lucius had been visited by the moonweaver, but he had always known that his brother had to hide it. After Aurra’s own path leading away from the family, he knows there is some part of his father that resents the moonweaver for putting Lucius on that path as well, especially one with such danger. 

Tary sat in silence for a moment, looking over Haldor’s shoulder while he fiddled with a fork as he thought.

“I think I can understand why the Empire allows the gods they do,” Tary said, and both Lawrence and his stared in shock for a moment. He tried to drink more of his coffee but found the mug empty, and he felt it was  _ really _ not the time to get up for more. Tary had never shown dislike to other gods, so the direction of this conversation confused him. “The gods they chose have very specific teachings, about law and order and stability. If you want those things, you would obviously allow the worship of a god like Erathis, but not her lover, Melora. They want control, and its easier to control what people do, by controlling what they think.” 

“And… you think it right? That they control it like that?” His father’s words were slowly becoming laced with anger, and it seemed that some part of Taryon realised that and he was shook out of what trance he was in.

“Gods no,” Taryon said quickly, “I have travelled the world and seen the freedom other’s have and it makes them prosperous. Why just outside of the Empire in Nicodranas there is the most beautiful statue of the Wildmother you will ever see as she keeps people safe on their way to shore.” He paused again and a softer look overtook his face. “One of my closest friends in the entire world is a cleric of Serenrae, and meeting her was what truly made me realise how awful this control was. Because how good can you be, if you prevent the worship of the goddess of healing and redemption.”

Taryon stared down Haldor across the table. “If you were looking for someone to agree with you about how  _ awful  _ those ‘false gods’ are, you will not find him here. And you will not find me here, either, for no matter my feelings for your son I could not stand having someone feel that way about my friends.” 

Silence settled over the room like a thick winter blanket, and Haldor and Taryon did not break eye contact for a moment over it. Lawrence watched, breakfast half ate as he lost his appetite due to the tension. Haldor was the one that broke it, standing and picking up his glass from the table before finishing it off. “If he stays,” he said to Lawrence, “you need to tell him about our ancestry.”  _ Ah.  _ of course, Tary shot a side-eye glance at him, obviously confused, but he kept most of the attention on Haldor. The half-elf placed his hand over his heart and bowed neatly. “Welcome to my household, Taryon, and may the blessing of the Moonweaver be with you.” Lawrence watched Tary’s shoulder’s fall, tension leaving his body quickly at those words. Haldor tucked his chair in, and with a nod (and a wink, Lawrence noticed) he swiftly left the room.

With Haldor out the room, Taryon slipped down his chair, head in his hands as he took deep breaths. He lowered his hands slightly so only his eyes were visible and looked over at Lawrence.

“I really thought I fucked everything up then.” He said, and after a moment Lawrence burst into laughter, Tary quickly following. The dining hall was not large by any means but their laughter echoed throughout. 

Tary took a few deep breaths to try and stop his laughter. “What did he mean? By your ancestry?”

Lawrence leaned forward and placed a hand on Tary’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “That, my dearest,” he said as he stood and pressed a kiss into Tary’s forehead, “can wait until I’ve had another cup of coffee.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tary discovers the Lorelei secret, and Beni appears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo! welcome back! i.. don't actually know when i last updated this, i think it was this month.   
> also don;t worry guys, the smut comes back next chapter.... hopefully

They moved to the kitchen; Lawrence getting another cup of coffee as Tary cleaned up his plates. Tary was leaning over the kitchen sink, slowly getting the tap to work. It felt awfully domestic. The man he once knew would have made the servants clean up, and yet Tary had left Doty in the corner of the bedroom while they had breakfast.

“Now Tary,” Lawrence started, and then stopped. There were many reasons why he had never even  _ hinted _ at his heritage when they dated before. He had thought about it, many,  _ many  _ times, about sitting Tary down and telling him exactly what he was. And every time he knew exactly what his reaction would be. 

Fear. Hatred. 

Lawrence was never afraid of himself- never had been, never would be. In fact, he saw the curse more like an  _ opportunity. _ The rest of the family treated it as something you had to deal with or something that they are, but he saw it as something useful. He knew, deep down, that Tary would never see it like that. Tary grew up playing pretend, defeating the evil monsters and saving damsels. To Tary, Lawrence would be a monster. So he was never afraid of himself… just of what Tary would do. He was so important to him,  _ is  _ so important to him, that he never wanted to ruin what they had. So just like they hid from Tary’s father, Lawrence hid from Taryon.

But now Tary was changed, a world hardened man that still wore that award-winning smile. The scars spoke of everything he’d seen, and what they didn’t, he spoke at breakfast. 

He took a deep breath in, holding it for a second, before letting it and the words fall out.

“We’re werewolves.” There was no sugar coating it, no honey that could be added to the fact, and yet Lawrence wished he had said it a little smoother when Tary’s hand jerked turning the tap onto full power and soaking his front. He turned the water off just as quick, holding onto the counter edge tightly.

“I- I thought this was going to be about the elven heritage- the point to your ears,” Tary stuttered out. He saw Tary take in a deep breath and hold it tightly, so Lawrence stood and thanked the Moonweaver that the man didn’t flinch as the chair scraped along the floor.  _ That must be a good sign. _

“Well, to answer that, we found out our Grandfather was a drow.” Tary let out a short, panicked laugh, and his hands relaxed slightly where they gripped the counter. Lawrence approached his side, keeping about a foot between them. He heard Tary murmur something along the lines of  _ of fucking course  _ before the man reached out towards Lawrence. He twisted his fingers into Tary’s hand and squeezed tightly, still keeping his distance. 

“Okay,” Tary said, “Okay- that’s-  _ okay.”  _ he continued to repeat the word, over and over, almost like he was trying to make sure he knew it. He turned to Lawrence and smiled, something small and a little strained. “Okay.” 

“Just okay?” Lawrence asked, and finally stepped closer. Tary didn’t flinch again, and so he felt confident enough to lightly place his arm around his shoulder. Tary relaxed into it immediately, other hand dropping from the counter. 

“I guess I should be happy it's not a demon or something,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.” 

Lawrence used the hand still holding Tary’s to tug him as close as he could, ignoring the damp patch on the front of Tary’s shirt.

“How long?” Tary asked, “how long has your family been like this?”

“Centuries,” Lawrence replied, “during the war for the Julous Dominion- my ancestor Alfar was bitten then.” 

“So you were like this before? When we- oh, of course, you used to disappear on the full moon.” It was clear Tary was mentally scolding himself for not seeing it before. And to be fair, Lawrence’s  _ “yeah- I'm just- it's a- a family thing- gathering I mean. Yeah, every month”  _ excuse was not the greatest. 

“I’m sorry,” Lary said, “I should have told you.” 

“No- no, it’s okay, I was a bit of an asshole back then.”

“Yeah, you really were an ass.” Lary responded, which was obviously  _ not  _ the right thing to say, when Tary hit him in the shoulder. Lawrence jumped back away, holding onto the place where Tary hit.

“What?! I was agreeing with you!” he said in pain. Hells, Tary had a good right arm now. 

“You're not supposed to agree with me!” he exclaimed, “I'm allowed to call myself an arse but you're not allowed to say it back!” 

The two looked at each other in shock before Tary began to laugh. Lawrence shook his head.

“Gods I missed you,” Lawrence said.

Tary smiled wider. “I missed you more.” 

~~~~~

Tary settled into Lorelei castle easily. He grew close with the servants- especially Miss Peggy, who he could be found gossiping with most mornings. He adored the library, curling up with Lawrence as they read like they used to. Tary spent an entire day going over his upgrades to Doty, explaining each cog and enchantment to Lawrence, and the next day Lary went over all his recent alchemy experiments and even explained partly how lycanthropy worked. Tary understood none of it, but he enjoyed watching him talk about what he loved (he probably did the same when Tary talked about Doty. Lawrence was never the best at tinkering). 

Life was good. Tary wrote another letter to Whitestone, giving it to Peggy on her way into town. He explored the rest of the castle and the surrounding land, often dragging Lary into picnic dates in the woods. He adored it.

And then, of course, he met Lawrence’s twin. 

~~~

Tary was baking blondies when he met Benicio. 

Now, that sentence sounds quite nice, does it not. It sounds like Tary was baking in the kitchen, measuring out flour and sugar, when Beni walked in. The man would have approached him, shaken his hand, maybe given him a noogie like he was fond of doing. He would have probably even given him some sort of shovel talk, telling him to be kind to his brother, before trying one of his blondies.

That was probably how it would have gone if Beni wasn’t in hybrid form when he walked in. 

It went a bit more like this.

~~~

The blondie mixture was extremely sticky as Tary poured it into the baking tray. He had mentioned The Slayer’s Cake over dinner the night before, and both Haldor and Lawrence had taken an interest in trying his “world famous blondies”, so Peggy and he had taken the shortcut into town that morning, bought the ingredients he needed as well as some other essentials. It was now early afternoon, and he had just finished his first batch, putting it in the lit oven before cleaning the bowl to make a new batch. Maybe this time he’d just make normal brownies, he had the ingredients for it. 

_ Crash! _

He dropped the bowl and, wielding a spoon still covered in blondie mixture, whirled towards the form in the doorway. The thing looming there was tall, at least eight feet in height, covered head to toe in mismatched black and white fur, except for its bare, scarred  arms.. A long pointed snout growled at Tary, so he did the only thing he could do.

He screamed, threw the spoon at it, and jumped on top of the counter. 

The mixture that coated the spoon meant it stuck to the fur on the beast’s nose, even when it started to shake its head. Tary scrambled further back along the counter, almost falling into the sink, as the creature finally got rid of the spoon. It growled at him and began stalking towards him, so Tary reached behind him to pull out the first thing he could find in the sink to ward off the beast. 

Well, he’d defended himself with worse than a saucepan.

Luckily, his scream had done its job and attracted help. Lawrence ran into the kitchen, wielding his two short swords and looking rather  _ dashing _ . If there wasn’t a monster in there with them, Tary probably would have told him so. Of course, Tary felt a lot  _ less _ safe when, instead of rushing to his side and fighting it off as a hero does, Lawrence just dropped his shoulders, sighed, and sheathed one of his swords so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. 

The beast’s growl shifted into quick breaths, and the sides of its mouth curled upwards into a grin as it began to  _ laugh.  _ It got louder until it was a deep-bellied guffaw, and the beast was curled forwards holding onto its stomach. 

Lawrence sheathed his other sword and made his way to Tary’s side, pulling the saucepan away so he could hold his hands. “Meet my twin brother,” he said exasperatedly.  _ Brother?  _ Tary looked back over at the laughing beast, now on the floor, practically howling. There was a strange feeling in Tary’s gut as he looked at it, knowing that his boyfriend also had the possibility to change into...well,  _ that _ . Until now it had just been a part of his life that Tary might not ever see; Lary would go out into the woods on a full moon and Tary would stay indoors. It was not till now that he realised that Lawrence could change  _ outside  _ of that time, and he didn’t know how he felt about that.

But the strange feeling felt a bit similar to excitement. 

He heard a loud  _ crack!  _ and suddenly Lawrence put his hand over Tary’s eyes, shocking him so much he almost fell in the sink again. 

“Sorry,” he said, followed by another loud crack, “The transformation doesn’t look… pleasant.” Tary knew quite well how weak his own stomach was, and decided that it probably was for the best. Less than a minute later, Lawrence let his hand drop. 

Benicio Lorelei was a mere inch taller than his brother, but seemed like the type of man to lord it over him like it was a foot. He had big muscles, much shorter hair, and deep scars all up his arms that matched the ones in his other form. He rolled his shoulders a few times as he made his way up from the floor, cracking his neck from side to side, before making his way to the two of them

“So who's this?” Beni asked, leaning against the countertop. As he looked at Tary his face quickly changed to one of fear. “He knew about the-”

“Yes he did,” Lawrence said as he cut him off, “and you’re fucking lucky he did too. What if he didn’t, huh? You’d be revealing our secret!” 

Beni wagged his forefinger at his brother. “But I didn’t,” he said smugly. 

“But you didn’t know he knew!” 

“Still didn’t reveal it.” 

Tary sat back and let the two bicker, instead taking his time studying how similar they were. They obviously weren’t identical; Beni’s mouth was slightly lower, matching his father’s, and his nose was  off. The latter could have been a result of a fight, but Tary got the feeling not many people picked

fights with Beni, and if they did, they didn’t get anywhere close to his nose. They did, he noticed, have the same cheekbones. Must be a twin thing. 

“So who is this?” Beni asked, finally dragging Tary back into the conversation, or at least making it about him. 

“This is Taryon, brother,” Lawrence answered, “My boyfriend.” 

At that, Beni raised his eyebrows and gave Tary a long look. He leant towards him, stuck his hand by his mouth to hide it from Lary, and stage-whispered “I’d be careful- he used to have a boyfriend called Tary. His dad tried to kill him.” He leant back out and looked at Lawrence, whose face showed only disappointment. “What? It's true!”

“That was my father… and I’m that Tary,” he said. 

“Oh!  _ Oh,”  _ Beni looked at Lawrence, then at Tary, then back to Lawrence again. “Well then.” he slowly backed away from the two of them, but not before he had scraped some of the remaining blondie batter from the bowl. “I better be off.” he licked his finger before turning around, then turning back around. “What’s that?” He asked, pointing towards the bowl. 

“It’s- uh- Blondies. They’re in the oven.” Tary replied. 

Beni shifted his finger from the bowl to Lawrence. “He’s staying,” he said, and then left.  

With Beni no longer in the room, Lawrence moved closer to Tary, holding his face in his hands. “I deeply apologise for my brother,” he said, “And I would say he won’t do it again but he will, on the regular.” It made Tary laugh, how sincere his apology was, and Lawrence looked almost shocked at the giggles that spilt from Tary’s mouth.

“You know, when I used to call my sister a little beast, she never came back looking like  _ that _ ,” he said, and the shocked look dropped from Lary’s face as he rolled his eyes. He smiled, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“Let's just hope meeting the others will be better,” he said.

“Oh, I can’t wait.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know the drill, kudos and comments keep me sane!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after the full moon has always been hard for Lawrence, Tary helps out.
> 
> (art by the lovely https://twitter.com/Jess_Bookish)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOF GET READY FOR 4000 WORDS OF MOSTLY SMUT!

Tary placed the cup of cocoa Miss Peggy had brought for him on the sill, the hot drink steaming up the window. She had given it to him in the hopes it would help him sleep, but Tary knew his own body well enough, and was sure sleep would not visit him tonight.

_Memories of Lawrence bringing similar drinks to his workshop sprung to mind, trying to coax him into his bed. Memories of Vex doing the same, and comforting him when it reminded him too much of his lost love._

But Lawrence is no longer lost. The past few weeks Tary keeps wondering if he’s dead and this is the realm beyond, that the scholars had gotten it right and what lies beyond the Raven Queen is a paradise for you to live in forever. He was even starting to get annoyed with his own mind how many times he had had to stop whatever he’d been doing to just... look at Lawrence, marvel in the fact that he was alive.

A howl, echoing through the open window shook him from his thoughts, reminding him just why he was stood here and not already in bed wrapped in Lawrence’s arms. The sky was clear, giving a clear view of the large full moon as it drifted across the sky. A cold wind went through him and blew out a few nearby candles, but he made no motion to close the window, only pulling his cup close as he stared out into the dark.

He knew Lawrence would be safe; not only was he with Benicio and his father, but Portia had made the trip back for the night. It had been a brief meeting; Portia threatened him with her longsword about hurting Lawrence again and then left, the others following her out into the woods. Before he had gone, Lawrence had pressed a kiss to his lips and told him not to worry, that they did this often.

He sipped his drinking, ignoring how hot it was. Honestly, most heat didn’t affect him after his trip to the hells. Another howl echoed across the forest, three others joining it this time, and the very sound helped ease his mind.

A soft knock on the door caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see Miss Peggy enter the room. She carried with her a coal bucket, and just nodded to him as she made her way to the fireplace. He turned his attention back to the window and the wide woods that stretched beyond his field of view.

“Do you worry, miss?” he asked. “When they leave?” He heard her pause in her work, thinking over the question. She started shovelling coal again before she spoke.

“I did,” her voice was soft, and though many years his younger it was obvious she was trying to comfort him. “When I first started working here, it took many moons for them to trust me enough to tell me. And I worried, especially when they would come back the next day, often bruised and tired.” She must have noticed a shift in his body at those words, for she stood and walked to his side. “Beni can be a bit playful, and the shifting process is long and tiring. They’re usually pretty sore afterwards, spend all day in bed.” she leaned in close like she was hiding a secret even though it was clear they were the only two awake in the castle. “I know you probably won’t get much sleep tonight, sir, so maybe you could bake something? Win Portia over with some of your blondies.” Now there was a good thought. Beni already liked him, though Tary stealthily avoided him after their meeting, not wanting a repeat of it. The man has not seemed to notice though but has snuck up on him on occasion, just to tell him how good his blondies are. Maybe they would work their magic on Portia too, though he doubted that she was as food oriented as her brother.

“I have been meaning to perfect my bear claws recipe- Vex’s were always better than mine but I know I’m _this close_ to getting it right.” He leaned forward to closed the window, pausing just as another howl echoed. It sounded in pain, but as he felt Miss Peggy’s hand on his arm he knew there was nothing he could do. “If you don’t mind, in the morning, perhaps we could prepare Lawrence a bath? I know it always helped me when I had sore muscles.” He’s pretty sure he still has those bath salts he picked up the last time he went through Nicodranas as well.

“Just for Lawrence?” she asked with a sly smile. “Beni gets rather jealous when his twin gets something he doesn’t.”

“Well,” he replied, “you can run Beni a bath as well, but he won’t be the one I’ll be joining.” he shot her a wink and left the room with his mug in his hands, listening to her laughter as he did.

~~~

Lawrence was _tired._

Stumbling up the stairs, he rather regrets giving Tary the emperor's suite because of how _high up_ it was. Usually, he would just pass out in his own bed, which was only up one flight of stairs and not three. He could hear the other two mocking him as he basically pulled himself up the bannister, muscles twinging with each step, but he could not spend the day passed out in his room, or in the library. No, Tary had been concerned when he had gone, and he must see him now.

Finally, he made it to the top floor landing and he stopped with his hand on the wall to catch his breath. The full moon really did take a toll on him, both the shift into and out of. Using the hand on the wall he slowly made his way to his and Tary’s room where he heard humming and smelled… peppermint.

He knocked, but there was no effort to it, just letting his tired hand fall against the surface of the door before he leant against it. It was not locked, and the door slowly opened as he put his weight on it.

Tary was on him in an instant, grabbing his cheeks and bringing him down as he inspected him. The man noted every rip in his clothing, every splash of mud, every bruise and small cut as Lawrence could do nothing but stand in the doorway. It felt nice, though, to have someone worry over him. He knew that no harm would have come to him last night, they had done these hundreds of times over the years, but the feeling of Tary’s slightly course palms over his skin was comforting.

He was distracted from Tary’s concern by a laugh, and he looked over his lover’s shoulder to find Peggy stood in the middle of the room by a large metal tub. She was holding a ceramic jug he had never seen before, and as she poured its contents into the tub it produced hot water… constantly. Tary realised that Lawrence’s attention was drawn to something else, and in an instant seemed to realise that the two weren’t alone in the room, and he jumped away, turning to face Peggy. She laughed again at the two of them and finished pouring the water.

“Enjoy your bath, sire,” she said to Lawrence as she made her way towards them and the door, placing the jug on the side. “And Tary, enjoy… taking care of your boyfriend.” she shot him a wink as she left, closing the door behind her.

Lawrence turned back to Tary and saw the deep blush that spread down his neck and underneath his shirt. He was glad that Tary was not alone during the night, but he was slightly concerned that the person he had for company was Peggy. She wasn’t always the most… polite of people. Vulgar was a better word for it.

“How did you get the bath up here?” he did not want to sound _rude,_ but gods knew that though Tary had gained strength in the past few years it was a solid metal tub and the stairs were cruel, as he found just now.

“Doty,” Tary answer, and of course it was the automaton. The thing honestly creeped him out, especially these days now that it can talk (If saying the word Tary in answer to everything counted as _speech,_ but he doesn’t know if full speech would be worse than how it is). “Which, um, reminds me. There may or may not be a broken vase that I promise to fix as soon as possible.” Lawrence just shook his head as he let out a soft chuckle. He placed his hand on Tary’s cheek, angling him upwards so he could press a gentle kiss to his lips. He pulled back slowly, holding Tary still as he tried to follow.

“A bath?” He murmured, and stepped closer into Tary’s space, wrapping an arm around his waist to tug Tary towards him. “My dear, you did not need to do this.” Tary blushed again and shrugged.

“I always liked a bath after a long while travelling,” Tary said, “it's good for the-” he reached up, grabbing his arm and digging his thumb in gently “-muscles.”

“And the peppermint?” He asked with a sly smile.

“Look,” Tary said, catching on to the teasing, and he reached up to start unbuttoning Lawrence’s shirt. “Some people like their baths to smell nice. Especially after a really long trip. These bath salts were expensive you know.”

“You’re an adventurer, why are you carrying _bath salts_?” He asked as Tary finally got the last button undone and pushed Lawrence’s shirt off his shoulders, making a start on his trousers.

“I carry bath salts because I am classy.” Tary pulled the belt from its loops with a _whip_ , emphasising his point.

“No, you carry bath salts because you’re _gay.”_ He heard Tary gasp, loud and over the top, as the man hit his bare shoulder in fake outrage. As he did, Lawrence’s trousers fell to the floor, and Tary quickly pushed his small clothes down with them.

“Get in the bath,” Tary said stoically but ruined it with a smile.

“Yes, Sir,” Lawrence replied, winking at Tary before turning towards the bath. As he moved he was suddenly reminded _why_ he needs the bath in the first place, and every step hurt as he slowly walked towards the tub. He heard Tary chuckle behind him but Lawrence was too focused on getting into the hot water.

As he lowered himself into the tub the heat quickly sunk into his body and he moaned loudly, relaxing as much as possible as he laid down. The tub was large and it meant he could lie fully in it without his feet poking out the other side. His hands resting on the side of the bath, he slowly slipped down until only his face was above water level, closing his eyes and take a deep breath.

Water flooded into his ears, dulling his sense of hearing, and with his eyes closed and the smell of peppermint overwhelming him, he felt cut off from the rest of the world. Every pain in each muscle was soothed gently by the hot water and whatever strange bath salts Tary put in. knowing him, they probably have some sort of magical effect.

Talking of Tary, he had taken Lawrence’s hand into his own, digging his thumbs into the palms in smooth circular motions. He felt a moan ripple through his chest and the dulled sound of Tary’s laughter in reply to it. The man continued the massage up his arm, digging both his thumb and the heel of his hand into the muscles.

Lawrence opened his eyes to look up at Tary and found him complete engrossed in his work. The two of them had that in common; the way that once they set to a task they ignored all distractions until it was done. He had only had Tary look at him like this a few times before. Back then Tary was new to all this, and it was usually Lawrence taking care of him; stretching him out on beds, laid bare before him as he focused all his attention on making Tary fall apart. It felt nice, to have the same attention on him.

Of course, such devoted attention could be taken advantage of.

To reach Lawrence’s shoulder, Tary had to lean over the edge of the bath. From said angle, Tary’s shirt (loose fitting and _white_ ), was left unprotected. Lawrence lowered his shoulder deeper under the water, forcing Tary to follow, and he made his move.

With his free arm, he grasped Tary’s shoulder to keep him steady, the man jolting slightly in surprise, and taking advantage of his confused state, Lawrence twisted the front of his shirt into his hand and pulled Tary into the water with him.

Lawrence immediately regretted his actions as Tary fell on top of him, his forearm digging into his throat and his knee digging slightly into his cock in a very _unpleasant_ way. He could not help but laugh at Taryon’s squeal and at the look of betrayal that adorned the man's face as they finally got settled. Between his soaked hair and the deep pout he was sporting, he looked rather like a drowned cat.

Speaking of soaked, Tary’s clothes were _drenched._ The white shirt was now clinging to his body and slowly going see through which Lawrence certainly wasn’t complaining about. To avoid hurting Lawrence, Tary had settled his knees either side of Lawrence’s legs and had both hands on the edge of the tub holding him up.

“Why?” was Tary’s only response to this, and the way the betrayal in his voice was only partially fake. It just caused Lawrence to chuckle again.

“I needed some excuse to get your clothes off,” he replied, and Tary rolled his eyes before leaning back, giving Lawrence the perfect view. He undid each button one by one, making sure to pull the shirt apart as he did revealing the golden body hair beneath. A few hickeys still remained from other nights, but they were starting to fade. Once he reached the bottom, he pulled the shirt from his shoulders and threw it across the room, landing somewhere with a wet _slap_. Lawrence ignored it while placed his hand on Tary’s cheek, leading him forward and over him.

As Tary got closer he tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes slightly as he leant down for a kiss. Lawrence opened his mouth slightly and leant up to meet him halfway, which is when Tary splashed him, getting water into his mouth.

“Bastard!” he yelled as he spat the water out, but Tary could not hear him other his own laughter. He sat back as he chuckled, nudging Lawrence’s feet out of the way so he could sit at the other side of the tub. Lawrence continued to spit the taste of bath water out of his mouth (which tasted nothing like peppermint, he might add), and therefore only realised Tary was taking his trousers off when he heard them fall to the floor beside the bath.

As he settled back in the bath, this time sat straight with his arms rested on the edge of the tub, he watched Tary do the same. The man used his hands to create a small wave towards Lawrence, smiling like an idiot as he did so.

“I did not realise we were children,” Lawrence said after the third wave brushed against him.

“You yanked me into the bath,” Tary said, “you started this.”

“‘You started this’- truly the words of a child.”

Tary just shot him a glare with no heat behind it, obviously annoyed he had no comeback, and before Lawrence could say anything Tary sent another, bigger wave, this one splashing over the side of the tub.

He could not help it, he burst into laughter, Taryon falling with him at their antics. The day after the full moon was usually just a day for curling up and ignoring the rest of the world, but here was Tary putting some light into it. Some laughter.

Some love.

Before, when they hid their relationship, they said _I love you_ a lot. Whispered in corridors, pressed into skin behind locked doors. It was, in fact, Tary who had said it first. It had slipped out of his mouth during a short walk in the woods, and he had apologised immediately. Lawrence replied by pinning him to a nearby tree and kissing him senseless. And then said those words back.

In the short weeks since Tary has been back, they had not said those words. He did not know why he had not said them, he thought them every time he looked at the man. Every joke he made, every story he told about bears and goliaths and half-elves that he liked to think where just stories but every scar told him otherwise. There was not a bone in his body that did not love Taryon Darrington. But there was a part of him that was waiting, waiting for Tary to say it first. Because Lawrence- Lawrence had not changed a day since Tary left. Aged a bit, maybe. But fundamentally there was no difference to the man that fled Tary’s bedroom that night. But Tary _had._ His body had changed, his _mindset._ It had taken being outed and thrown out into the world for Tary to become a man, and what a beautiful one he had become.

So, maybe Lawrence was a bit insecure- he should not be. Tary had run him this bath, for starters, and had stayed even after learning about his heritage. All paths point to Tary still being in love with him. He was just… waiting for him to say it first.

He felt a hand digging into his foot and looked over to find Tary starting to massage it. He dug his thumbs into the arch of his foot and then began doing the same to his calf muscle.

“Tary you don’t- you don’t have to do this, you know,” he insisted, “the bath was enough.” and it _was,_ the heat had sunk into his muscles and helped him relax. But then Tary dug out a knot in the back of his calf and he groaned. Tary did not reply, but the smug look on his face said it all as he continued up his leg. He got back up on his knees as he reached his thigh, using his thumbs to rub circles into the muscles, releasing all his tension. He leaned further and further over Lawrence as he got higher, and he spread his legs to give Tary more access almost involuntarily. He shivered as Tary gently massaged the inside of his thigh, and he just saw the slight smile that appeared on Tary’s face.

And then there was a gentle, soft touch up the side of his cock.

He suppressed the groan at the touch, but not the whine that he made as Tary left again, moving all the way down to start at the other foot.

It was torture, feeling Tary’s hands on his legs when he wanted them somewhere else. It felt strange being the one at the others mercy, Tary preferring to be the one pinned down to the bed, but the switch was not unwelcome. As Tary began massaging the inside of his thigh again, Lawrence grew too impatient. He reached up and tangled his hand in Tary’s hair, before tugging him down into a kiss.

It was a heated kiss, wet and sloppy as Lawrence pushed his way into Tary’s mouth immediately. He may not be in control of the situation but he would be in control of this kiss, even if Tary’s smile suggested he got exactly what he wanted. His free hand grabbed Tary’s waist, pulling him closer until-

Under the water, their cocks met. It was an awkward angle and the water did not help. They were both half hard but as Lawrence pulled Tary’s hips forward to meet his own aborted thrusts, they quickly hardened.

He pulled away from Tary’s mouth, pressing kisses along his jaw and down his throat to find his pulse point. There was a faded hickey there, turning green and brown, and Lawrence slipped his hand from Tary’s hair to press a finger into it. Tary groaned above him, his thrusts going slightly off time as he did. Lawrence nibbled gently on the pulse point, and one of Tary’s hand reached round to grab the back of Lawrence’s neck, keeping him close. Not like Lawrence would ever want to leave this place.

He reached down between them and just gently ran a knuckle along the side of Tary’s cock, the man moaning loud as he did. In retaliation, Tary did the same to him, playing slightly with the tip as he did and Lawrence could not suppress the grunt he buried into Tary’s neck.

Tary knocked Lawrence’s hand away from them and took both of their cocks into his hand. They both groaned, loud and long, as Tary slowly moved up and down. Lawrence could feel Tary pay more attention to his cock than his own, trying to get him to come first. Every time he brought his hand up, Tary would use his pinky to play with the slit at the top, causing Lawrence to thrust upwards and bite harder into Tary’s skin, and every time he brought his hand down, he would reach further down to play with Lawrence’s balls. Well, two can play at that game.

Still biting and sucking at Tary’s pulse point, Lawrence gently brushed his hands over Tary’s nipples, his efforts rewarded by the short breath he heard Tary take in. he was gentle, drawing circles around the nipple before gently pressing into the bud itself. He created a soft rhythm, three circles before he pressed in, and then he would switch. He waited for Tary to get used to what he was doing before on the second circle he instead took the bud between two fingers and twisted.

The moan Tary let out was beautiful. He threw his head back and his hand stuttered in its motions. Lawrence did the same to the other nipple, giving a smaller reaction but still what he wanted. He knew Tary was getting close.

Tary used his free hand to pull Lawrence’s head up from where it was still buried in his neck and dragged him into a messy kiss. It was so messy it was less a kiss and more the two just breathing into each other’s mouths. With each drag of Tary’s hand, they got closer and closer to the edge, and they both thrust up to chase it. Lawrence shifted his hand from Tary’s hip and instead wrapped his arm around his waist, and Tary’s arm shifted around his neck. Like this they struggled to thrust and help chase their orgasms but neither cared, just wanting to be close.

They came together, their messy kiss stopping the sounds they made but the vibrations in their chests passed through each other. Tary kept moving his hand to help them through it but it was shaky and slow.

Once they came down, Tary collapsed forwards and Lawrence slowly lowered them back so he was once again leaning against the tub. He held Tary to his chest as he tried to catch his breath, feeling the man against him try and do the same.

“Ew,” Tary said as he lifted his hand, revealing a mixture of come and water. He went to flick it off but Lawrence caught him

“Don’t flick it, you’ll get it everywhere.” there was one thing cleaning come up from a tub, and another cleaning it up from a place where he had no idea where his boyfriend had flung it.

Tary lifted himself off of Lawrence’s chest slightly, peeking over the side of the tub.

“Did we get water all over the floor?” Lawrence asked, and Tary nodded. They looked at each other, before they both began to laugh, Tary falling back against his chest as he did so.

There it was again, that laughter, that _love,_ that surrounded everything Tary did. And in his post-orgasmic state, he was not afraid.

“Taryon, I love you.”

Tary shot up, looking Lawrence dead in the eye as he did. He was searching for something, but all he found was Lawrence’s soft smile as he looked up at him. And Tary-

Tary pinned him to the tub and kissed him senseless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I do have more planned for this story, so keep subscribed, but I thought this was a nice wrap-up point as the next few chapters are long and plot oriented and I'm ... tired. I won't forget about this fic! but right now I want to focus on my other long chapter fic (Born in a box) which I'm halfway through and it's getting to the juicy stuff. expects some more updates for this once this is done. ENJOY!  
> (as always, comments and kudos are appreciated)

**Author's Note:**

> please give kudos and comments and tell me if you liked it!


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